I should have freaking known. How dense can one girl be? If it’s too good to be true, then it is. If he’s too nice, smiles too perfectly, says all the right things, then he probably isn’t prince charming. Nope. Of course he’d be freaking married. And I didn’t see it. So here I am, in a city that I hate doing a shoot I don’t want to do. Suck it up, Jolene. That’s what I have to keep telling myself. It’s time to swear off smooth talking men and just focus on the only true loves in my life: photography and Dozer, my dog.